


You'll Never Walk Alone

by TamaraKnight



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-27
Updated: 2004-06-27
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:24:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1626539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TamaraKnight/pseuds/TamaraKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years after the Hillsborough tragedy Brad and Monica remember the 96 who died.</p>
<p>~formatting issues fixed</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll Never Walk Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Written from March to June 2004.
> 
> Vikkii for putting up with me. She is an expert of sorts on the subject of the fic, especially Liverpool F.C. and helped me with my research.

BRAD FOLLMER’S RESIDENCE, APRIL 15TH 1999, 10:45AM

Monica was sat on Brad’s sofa; she was wearing a pale blue Nike tracksuit with a white camisole underneath  
the half-zipped jacket with white and red Reebok sneakers. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail. She was resting her feet on the edge of the pine coffee table that was in front of the sofa. She picked up the  
remote control and began flicking through the channels. Once she had found something to watch, she leant forward, placing the remote on the floor next to the sofa.

Brad entered the room, he was wearing a fitted white t-shirt and brown pants with black boots. “How come  
the cartoons are on Monica?”

Monica turned her head to look at Brad. “The morning news was too depressing for me today. Some report was  
on with today being the anniversary of some English soccer tragedy.”

“The morning news is always too depressing for you.” Brad smiled. “Did the reporter say what football tragedy?”

“No she didn’t. Why do you want to know?”

Brad smiled. “Oh no reason just wandering. You look nice.”

Monica smiled at Brad’s compliment. “I’m only in my runners, it’s not like I’ve put in any effort for  
staying at home. Thank you, you look pretty hot yourself.”

Brad ignored Monica’s compliment. Instead he stared at his framed and signed England flag on the far wall  
above the television. His sporting heroes had signed it before he left England.

Brad sat down on the sofa next to Monica, he began to chuckle at the cartoon on the television. “I’m too old for cartoons.”

Monica looked at him. “You’re never too old for cartoons, they are a form of escapism from real-life. Then again I am a big kid at heart,” she said.

“I’m gonna get a cold drink Mon, do you want one?”

“Yeah I’ll have orange Fanta or diet coke, whichever is nearest to hand.”

Brad kissed Monica on the cheek. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

A few minutes had passed before Brad came back with their drinks. Monica was laughing at the Hong Kong Fuey episode on the television.

Brad’s eyes had reddened slightly from crying. “Here you go Mon,” he said as he handed her drink to her.  
Monica twisted the lid from the bottle and took a sip of her drink.

Monica looked up from the television. “What’s wrong?” she tenderly enquired.

“I didn’t want to say anything but today is the tenth anniversary of the Hillsborough tragedy.”

Monica looked confused. “Without sounding thick what is Hillsborough and when did it happen?”

“Hillsborough happened on this day in nineteen eighty-nine. Brad’s eyes met with Monica’s gaze. “The Hillsborough tragedy was on the news this morning. Ninety-six people were killed in the crush because police decided to open up the gates to the Leppings Lane entrance with only fifteen minutes to go before kick-off.”

Monica was clearly shocked by what she was hearing.  
“Carry on Brad.”

“As the police opened the gates, fans packed into the central section of the terrace which was already at  
capacity. In the crush that followed ninety six people died.” Brad took a swig of his drink. “Although the  
referee allowed the game to go ahead, he blew his whistle at six minutes past three.”

Monica placed her arm around Brad’s back. “What happened exactly?”

Brad was having a hard time stopping the tears from rolling down his face. “Fans were climbing out of the pens and over fences to avoid the crush and help the injured and dying. As they began to realise the full extent of what was happening, those that were near to the pitch started pulling down advertising boards to  
use as make shift stretchers for the dead and injured until the emergency services arrived.”

“Where were the players when all this was going on?”

“The referee ordered the players off the picth and back into the dressing rooms. After thirty five minutes the Nottingham Forrest and Liverpool players were ordered to go up to the players lounge by their managers.”

Brad couldn’t hold his tears back any longer.

“Did you see any of it Brad?”

He turned to face Monica. “I saw it on the TV. I was going to go to Hillsborough and watch the game with it  
being and FA Cup Semi Final but at the last minute I changed my mind and decided to stay home.”

“Sounds like the best decision you ever made.”

He took a tissue from the box on the floor. “In a way it was and still is but I feel guilty as I could have  
so easily being one of the injured or dead people.” He wiped his tears way the best he could before more  
began to fall.

“Have the people who died been remembered in any way Brad?” Monica thoughtfully enquired.

A wry smile began to creep across Brad’s face. “Yes they have. At Anfield, Liverpool’s ground there is a  
memorial at Shankly Gates. It has a plaque with the names of the ninety six who died and there is also an  
eternal flame burning there.”

Brad rested his head on Monica’s shoulder. “I remember John Aldridge a player at the time saying in the Liverpool Echo that he didn’t care whether or not he played football again. Other players at the time also  
echoed his statement.” Monica was wiping brad’s tears away as they rolled down his face. “At Anfield they  
let fans into the ground to pay their respects by laying scarves and flowers. Within hours Anfield had  
become a shrine and the Kop and goal mouth were completely covered with the flowers and scarves of the fans who didn’t travel to the game.”

“Wow that is truly beautiful what they did. Did John Aldridge play again?” Monica said.

“Yeah he did carry on playing. I think he said it because he is a Liverpool supporter first and a player  
second.”

Monica smiled at Brad. “It seems to me that he had a determination to carry on although in his heart of  
hearts he didn’t want to because of what happened.”

“It’s almost time,” Brad said as he looked at his watch.

“It’s almost time for what?” Monica asked in confusion of Brad’s statement.

Brad smiled at Monica and her honesty. “Every year at six minutes past three, a candle is lit and there is a one minute silence. This is followed by reciting You’ll Never Walk Alone. Will you join me in remembering the ninety six who died?”

Monica took Brad’s hand. “Of course but it’s only ten am.”

“Not in England, it’s three pm over there,” Brad said.

10:06AM

Monica and Brad were standing near the far wall in silence. They were holding candles, struggling to hold  
their tears back and hide their sorrow.

10:07AM

Brad broke the silence. “Now it’s time to recite You’ll Never Walk Alone. Just repeat after me if you don’t know it.”

“Ok Brad I can do that,” Monica said as she used the back of her hand to wipe her tears away.

Brad took Monica’s hand and smiled. “Let’s do this, let’s remember.”

“When you walk through a storm hold your head up high and don’t be afraid of the dark. At the end of the  
storm is a golden sky and the sweet silver song of a lark. Walk on through the wind walk on through the  
rain. Tho’ your dreams be tossed aside and blown, walk on walk on. With hope in your heart and you’ll never  
walk alone. You’ll never walk alone.”

10:10AM

Monica blew the candles out and placed them back into the candlestick holders next to the television.

“When I have time off, I go back to England for a few days and while I’m there I go to Liverpool to pay my  
respects to the fans,” Brad said.

“That is sweet Brad really lovely,” Monica said while looking up at his framed flag. “Why is your England  
flag framed?” 

“It is framed because it is sacred. I had it signed by a few former players before I joined the FBI.”

Monica asked, “Who signed it?”

Brad walked across the room and sat on the sofa, Monica did the same.

“It was signed by Peter Beardsley, John Barnes, Roy Haughton, Ronnie Whelan, Kenny Dalglish, Steve Nicol,  
John Aldridge and Bruce Grobbelar.”

Monica rested her head in Brad’s lap, looking up to him. “Would you have gone to Liverpool if you could  
have got more time off?”

”Yes I would have. I would have taken you with me and given you a guided tour of the best parts of the  
country while were there.”

Monica smiled. “There is always next year Brad.”

Brad kissed Monica on the forehead. “Thank you Mon,” he whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> This year (2004) marked the 15th anniversary of the Hillsborough tragedy. This was written and is intended as a tribute to the 96 who died on that fateful day in 1989. Also this is my first Follmer and Reyes fic.


End file.
